


Scorched

by Laurincia



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14669916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurincia/pseuds/Laurincia
Summary: Everything they've ever known had been destroyed, leaving behind only them; Jack Estrada, Jordan Trace, and q single dragon egg





	Scorched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silky133](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silky133/gifts), [PapaKapkan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapaKapkan/gifts), [carysias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carysias/gifts).



> I have started yet another story oops

It felt like yesterday when the Estrada family attacked the Traces. The tension was noticeable from the beginning when the Traces flew from Ireland to Europe on the backs of their dragons five years ago. Naturally, conflicts arose. Europe didn't have the friendliest of relations with dragons before, nearly being destroyed by wild ones before the Estrada came with their dragon slaying magic. The tensions were unmistakable, but the Traces kept to themselves deep in the heart of the forest, only venturing out on foot or by horseback when supplies from a nearby town were needed. The families didn't get along, but none intentionally went out of their way to start conflicts, until the last day of winter on the fifth year the Traces have been in Europe.

The Estradas all rode in on horseback, shouting spells and destroying everything the Traces have built, shooting their dragons out of the skies and evading the burning hot fires of the many that fought back. Jordan could remember it all, he remembers the thud of an army of horses surrounding the village, and screeches of their dragons, panicked yelling, and clashing metal. It was war, and it was bloody. The dragons that weren't strong enough went first, whether or not it was by an Estrada’s blade or spell. Some managed to fly away, but others weren't so lucky. The Riders in the family all took to the skies on their respective dragon, scorching those that got to close or strayed too far until their dragons couldn't withstand the slaying spells and fell to the earth. The eggs were the ones that were destroyed last, along with buildings. Jordan could remember his mother grabbing the nearest egg and placing it into his arms before telling him to run, to run as far as he can and never return, and so Jordan ran and never returned.

He ran through the trees, through the tall evergreens and large oaks, dodging branches and never looking back. He was a ways away but could still hear the loud, thundering roars of his family’s dragons. He came to a stop under a small oak. Gently putting the large egg down onto the forest floor, he took off his outerwear and fashioned it into a makeshift sling, placing the egg inside and keeping it close to his chest, like he had seen parents do for their kids numerous times, and climbed the tree.

Going as high as he could, Jordan looked up at the night sky. A deep, glowing red surrounded the area where his village was as large, dark silhouettes flew around, breathing fire into the village. Jordan shuddered and wrapped his arms around the egg, letting out a shaky breath. A high pitched shriek sounded, something akin to that of an eagle mixed with the roar of an older dragon. Squinting, Jordan could make out a blast of magic striking the large outline of a wyvern and watched in horror as the dragon fell from the sky. The wyvern was his father's.

Word spread fast. The two families had destroyed each other. There were no more dragons or dragon slaying magic.

Jordan kept running through the forest, not looking back, holding the egg close to his chest. Two days later, Jordan spotted smoke in the distance, not the large plumes of billowing smoke behind him, but something much smaller, more contained. Deciding to investigate, Jordan ran until he reached a small clearing with an extinguished campfire in the middle, surrounded by two tents. Two men in city guard uniforms were sitting on logs whispering to one another. On the forest floor next to them, Jordan could see a great shield and a sword behind the two, eyeing the emblems on the backs of their gray cloaks; a serpent surrounded by shining, gold lightning. From what Jordan could remember, gold meant they were the South’s royal guards.  
Holding his breath, Jordan slowly moved backward and cringed when a twig snapped under his weight. The two guards instantly turned around and reached for their weapons before stopping, studying Jordan with shocked expressions, their eyes switching back and forth from Jordan’s face to the egg he still had wrapped around the jacket against his chest. The swordsman quickly glanced over at his partner before turning back to Jordan, slowly standing up, slowly sheathing his sword. “Hello there, you lost?” He is from the South, his accent giving it away.  
Jordan shook his head and took another step back. The guards made no move to follow, staying back to give Jordan his space.  
“Don’t worry, we’re here to help,” the shield said quietly, crouching down. French.  
It was uncommon enough for royal guards to stray far from their capital, but to see two nearly on the complete opposite side of their area of reign was almost unheard of, yet here they were.  
Jordan could feel tears welling in his eyes and clutched the eggo tighter. The reality of the situation just hit him. His entire family had been ambushed by the only other clan that could do damage to them, or even kill. He took a breath, and broke.

 


End file.
